the beginning is the end is the beginning
by BlondeTate
Summary: "It's chaos outside. People are dead or undead, and here he is, not answering her calls." Tate, Violet and the zombie apocalypse. AU. Multichapters.
1. Prayers

_the beginning is the end is the beginning_

Oh, you have no idea how happy I am that I finally got around to write another Violate story.

Truth be told, when I mentioned in my other story_ (i'm suffocating, help me breathe again)_ that I'm planning to write a Violet/Tate zombie story, this isn't what I was talking about. That one is supposed to be a oneshot and it follows a different storyline than this, and I'm still writing that too, having every intention of finishing it, hopefully soon, it's just turning out to be _much_ longer than I originally intended. But when this idea popped into my head today, I couldn't resist, so here we are.

This will have ten short chapters, and it is AU in a way that Tate isn't dead and there are no ghosts - instead, there are zombies ;)

Rating is for the disturbing themes and language.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

* * *

_**Chapter 01 - Prayers**_

She prays to a God she doesn't really believe in.

It's Easter and they're in Boston, visiting grandparents and shit.

She didn't even want to go.

She wanted to stay in Los Angeles and spend the holidays with Tate - she wanted to stay cooped up in her room, naked and blissfully happy without her parents around to annoy her - but Vivien and Ben had insisted that it was a family holiday so she tagged along.

She remembers thinking that the whole thing was bullshit and she wasn't a little girl anymore, perfectly capable of making her own decision and spending the holiday with her boyfriend if she wanted to, and she remembers pouting about it for at least a day.

It all seems so irrelevant now.

It's two days after Easter, a bright Tuesday afternoon and she doesn't quite understand what's going on around her.

It's chaos outside.

Blood, screaming, chewing, dead people.

Ben asks them to stay home while he goes to investigate and Vivien double checks that the door is locked. Her grandmother wrings her hands nervously and worries her bottom lip between her teeth and her grandfather watches the news and listens to the radio to find out what's going on but nobody knows anything for sure.

Violet hears words like _'undead'_ and _'zombies'_ and _'the dead walking'_ and when she pulls away the curtains to check, her assumptions are confirmed.

If such a thing as zombies can exist, she's pretty sure that's what they're dealing with right now.

She tries to call Tate, more than once, but he never answers and after the third try, she begins to worry despite her best efforts to stay calm.

People are dead or undead, and here he is, not answering her calls. She doesn't know what she'd do if Tate became either one of them. The thought is too unsettling so she quickly dismisses it.

Ben comes back two hours later but it's not really Ben. More like... an abomination.

Whatever these things are, they had gotten to him.

Her grandmother screams, Vivien freezes in fear, and her grandfather raises the rifle he's been gripping just in case, aiming for the heart.

The shot rings loud and clear but it doesn't stop Ben. Her grandfather drops the gun in shock and nobody moves, no one except Ben, not until he starts stumbling towards Violet.

That's when Vivien snaps out of it and moves towards the gun, and with shaking hands and watering eyes, she shots her husband. Right in the head.

And it finally works.

As Ben lays dead, Vivien sinks to the floor and weeps and her grandmother attempts to comfort her while her grandfather goes to lock the door again, Violet prays.

She prays to a God she doesn't believe in.

She prays this isn't the end.

She prays Tate isn't dead and she will see him again one day.

She prays this is all dream and she will soon wake up.

But she doesn't.

Because this is reality now.

* * *

**So this was chapter one. **

**I'm not sure when I'll be able to update because truth be told, my computer isn't operating with me right now - it just won't fucking turn on. Currently I'm writing on my mother's laptop.**

**But the chapters really aren't going to be very long so they won't be hard to write, which means that as soon as my computer is good again or I can steal my mom's laptop, I'm going to update.**

**Until then guys.**

**Love,**

**Kathy**


	2. Nightmare

_the beginning is the end is the beginning_

Thank you for everyone who read, reviewed or put the story on alert, I love each and every one of you.

And now, let's see what happened with Tate, shall we?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

* * *

_**Chapter 02 - Nightmare**_

The whole thing is a nightmare.

He's in the store, buying some cigarettes for Violet as a welcome back gift for when she arrives home tomorrow, when he hears the first scream.

It's long and drawn out and terrified, and it's immediately followed by a second one.

People in the shop look around worriedly, they start murmuring, wondering what's going on and some even approach the exit to look outside.

Tate follows after them and what he sees shocks him immensely.

He's not sure what he expected in the first place but he knows it's definitely not _this_.

There's blood and gore and insides turned out, and people are literally eating other people's flesh.

It looks like a scene from a horror movie.

_Well fuck._

He swallows hard and can't resist pinching his arm to check if he's dreaming or not, but the sting is there so this can't be merely a bad dream.

He contemplates what to do - should he stay, should he go?

Staying here would be the easier thing to do because by the looks of it, those who are outside are being eaten by some kind of monsters and there's no help coming, but on the other hand, he can't hide like a coward.

He has to check on his siblings. He has to call Violet.

_Oh God, Violet._

She's probably okay. She has to be okay, probably just a little shaken by everything, because he simply won't accept any other possibility but he'd feel better if he heard her beautiful voice talking to him, confirming what he already knew - that she was safe and sound and he should stop being such a pussy and worry about himself.

His mind is made up right away.

He has to make sure she's okay even if it means sacrificing his own safety. She's more important than that. She's more important than _anything_.

So against his better judgement, he steps out of the store.

* * *

He barely makes it home.

It's his sheer luck that the small shop is close to his house because if it wasn't, he would have been doomed.

The zombies - because that's what they are, and he couldn't deny it anymore - are everywhere. Dead people lay on the ground and wake up as monsters the next second. And those who are still alive are doing their best to escape but it's all futile because there's no place to go, no safe shelter.

Everything has gone to hell.

He doesn't know how many times he thanks his lucky stars that he used to run track in high school because that's the only reason he can outrun the undead that starts following him in hopes of getting a bite out of him. Thankfully, he arrives home soon enough and throws door wide open, almost stepping inside without realizing that he would be running to his death.

But he sees the blood on the tiles. He hears the animalistic growls. And when he sees Constance turn around, chewing on something that looks like human flesh, ready to pounce on him, he knows it's too late for them.

He slams the door shut quickly to keep them in, but now he has nowhere to go and the zombie is still after him. If only he had a weapon...

But everything is inside the house. His guns, hidden under the bed, his cellphone, the only way of reaching Violet, and even his family. So, in an act of total desperation and at a loss of what to do, he starts running again.

To where, he doesn't know. Away. Maybe he'll come across an empty house where he can stay. Or a car. A car will do too.

And just when he thinks that maybe he should just give up and lay down, he spots a family not too far away packing suitcases into the back of their minivan and hope flares in his chest. Maybe they'll help. They wouldn't refuse to help him in a time like this, would they?

He continues to run and as he gets closer to them, he realizes he knows them. Well, he knows the woman. "Mrs. Montgomery?"

Nora Montgomery was a history teacher in Westfield High up until last year when she got pregnant and decided to take a break from teaching to raise her own child, who's now currently resting in her arms, crying horribly despite his mother's best efforts to calm him. Tate instantly feels relieved that out of all the people in Los Angeles, it's Nora Montgomery he comes across because he was always fond of the woman and he thought the feeling was mutual. There's no way she wouldn't help him.

The relief only got stronger when he saw the loaded gun in her husband's hand.

"Tate?" she gasps then takes a few steps back in fear when she sees what was following behind him all along. "Charles!" she shouts, motioning to her husband towards the zombie and he raises his gun, promptly shooting it in the head.

"You have to aim for the head," he explains as he reloads the gun. "That will kill them for good."

"How did this happen?" Tate can't help but wonder now that he's in the company of living, breathing people and he feels somehow safer than before.

"No one knows," Mrs. Montgomery's husband, Charles shrugs. "But it's happening. It's a nightmare. And they are coming."

"We are leaving the city," Mrs. Montgomery speaks up, gently rocking her baby back and forth in her arms, then she frowns, looking at Tate with worried eyes. "What are you doing here, Tate? Why aren't you home?"

"My family is dead," comes his short and cold response, his voice void of emotion. He doesn't have to say more, they both understand what happened.

Nora's bottom lip trembles and she looks ready to cry. She reaches out with her free hand to stroke Tate's cheek gently and he doesn't even have it in him to flinch away like he normally would if anyone besides Violet touched him. "Oh, you poor child. You poor thing... Well, maybe you could come with us, right, Charles?" she turns back to her husband expectantly and he gives them a curt nod, gesturing towards the van.

"Get in the car, boy."

He doesn't have many other options so he complies without a word, sitting in the backseat of the minivan as the Montgomerys settle in too.

After the engine comes to life with a low grumble, he turns to the blonde woman. "Where are you heading?"

"We don't have a concrete destination. We're just trying to find someplace safe," she shakes her head then she suddenly bursts into tears, sobbing into her hand but Tate doesn't even take notice. Instead he once again finds himself exhaling with relief because that's exactly the answer he wanted to hear.

"Then can we go to Boston?"

* * *

**So there you have it. Some of you were worried about Tate but now you know that he's alive and well and he's on a quest to find Violet. Y****ou didn't really think I'd kill him off so soon in the story, did you? I wouldn't be _that_ mean :D**

**I'll try to update soon, guys :)**

**Love,**

**Kathy**


	3. Hope

_the beginning is the end is the beginning_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

* * *

_**Chapter 03 - Hope  
**_

The gunshot rings out loudly on the otherwise eerily quiet street and he feels a sick kind of satisfaction as he watches the zombie's brains splatter to the ground._**  
**_

He's always liked this, the blood and the carnage, he doesn't even know how many times he's fantasized about killing someone, shooting them right in the head. Of course he always imagined it would be a living and breathing person but now that the apocalypse has came he can't exactly complain, he'll take what he can get.

It's been eleven days since it happened - he knows this because he counts it, fully aware of the fact that with each passing day his chances of ever finding Violet safe and alive are getting lower and lower - and it's easy, almost_ too easy_ to adopt to the circumstances and learn how to survive.

Well, for him anyway. Unfortunately the Montgomerys are having a harder time to adjust and honestly, he can't help but look forward to when their time is up - because he knows it's only a matter of time. People like them can't possibly survive in this world. It's nothing personal, it's just that they make his life a little harder and he feels like he could cope much better by himself. His first and foremost priority is to find Violet and keep her safe, and nothing can come between him and his goal, not even the family who'd saved his life back in LA.

The problem is especially the baby with the ridiculously weird name, Thaddeus. Babies are not meant for this lifestyle - they cry and cry and always just cry, and since his mother is incapable of calming him most of the time, Tate fears that one of these days, his wails will alert one of the zombies nearby and that will be their downfall. He can't let that happen.

On the bright side, the zombies are easy to deal with. Mr Montgomery was right about one thing, the only way to kill them is to aim for the head, more precisely the brain, the only thing keeping them alive and moving, and that will kill them for good. It's usually Tate who takes them down - he had gladly volunteered for the task and the Montgomerys had just as happily let him - but sometimes Charles helps him out when there are too many of them and the situation is getting out of hand.

They travel at daylight because it's safer. At night they usually find an abandoned house or store or any building they can stay at, or as a last resort they lock themselves up in the car. For food, bullets or whatever they need they break into shops and take what they can find. For gas they visit the gas station or drain other cars they come across.

Survivors are rare. So rare in fact that they haven't met any yet. Not even two weeks in, and everyone already seems to be a brain dead monster.

It should discourage Tate but he never loses hope. His Violet is strong. She's a fighter. She's okay, he knows that.

Yet the crippling fear that constricts his heart every fucking day can't be ignored because there's that little voice whispering in his ear, _'what if...'  
_

He's shaken out of his reverie when Mrs Montgomery's gentle voice reaches his ears, whispering his name. He clenches his teeth together and shakes his head to get rid of these poisoning thoughts, giving the undead at his feet one last look to make sure it's really dead before turning to face her._  
_

He tries so hard to look okay and brave but Nora, like a good mother he never had in his life, notices he's upset and without even demanding an explanation, she understands right away what's bothering him. She sighs softly and strokes his face, much like the first time she did when he told her his family was dead. "Oh, Tate," she whispers, giving him a small encouraging smile. "We'll find her. I promise we will."

And although her promises mean nothing because she can't possibly promise that, he feels a little bit better, enough to smile back at her.

His answer is merely a quiet murmur but it's full of hope and undisguised longing. "Yes, I hope so."

She isn't just a meal, she isn't the zombies' to take and eat, and he'll make sure they won't ever touch her.

Violet Harmon is his and his only, and he'd be damned if he let anyone change that.

* * *

**I know it's short and I'd say I'm sorry for that but I'm not. I'm a bit distracted but I wanted to update anyway and that's all I could get out of myself. And that being said, personally this was still my favourite chapter. It was kind of a filler, I know, I just wanted to show Tate adjusting to everything, but fear not, the next time we'll see him, things will be getting a bit rocky. You can start worrying ;)  
**

**However, next chapter we'll hear from Violet. Till then guys.  
**

**Love,  
**

**Kathy  
**


	4. Sanity

_the beginning is the end is the beginning_

Welcome again! This update is a little later than I wanted it to be - okay, not so little - but first I had no inspiration whatsoever, then I wasn't home for a few days and then I got back only to discover that my computer has died again. It's way too old. And it's still not working so I have to use my mom's laptop again.

But enough talking. Let's see what Violet's been up to, shall we?

Also, this chapter is longer. And probably the longest it's ever gonna get, so enjoy it to the fullest!

OH, AND I TOTALLY FORGOT! New username. From now on I'm BlondeTate :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

* * *

_**Chapter 04 - Sanity  
**_

It takes Violet precisely five days to go from feeling like she was going totally insane to completely losing her shit. And considering everything that went wrong around her, she can't say she's surprised.

It's a mixture of everything.

Her life feels like a fucking horror movie.

She witnessed the death of her father - no matter how much of an asshole he was most of the time, he _was_ her father - by the hand of her mother no less, after she was attacked by him, of course.

Her grandmother wouldn't stop fussing over her every minute of every hour, making sure she was fine even though they all knew she was not fine. _No one _was fine.

She hasn't left her grandparents' house in five days because outside there were gruesome zombies who wanted to eat her alive, and as revolting as that sounded, being locked up was starting to drive her crazy. She wanted to go outside. She wanted fresh air. She wanted her freedom.

And she wanted Tate.

Most importantly, she just wanted to be with Tate again. She could handle all the rest if only she had him by her side. She didn't think it was too much to ask for but of course nothing was that easy now that the world has gone crazy.

Vital things like getting food to eat became a daily struggle.

Violet wasn't allowed outside at any costs but the others had taken shifts in risking their lives to reach the store nearby just so they all wouldn't starve to death. So far it worked but the truth was that her grandparents were too old to keep this up for long and Vivien was just simply mentally unstable. In Violet's opinion, their best shot would be letting her go but nobody would even hear her out so it was a lost cause.

She didn't even bother to bring up the fact that someday the store is going to run out of stacks too and then they'll be royally screwed.

In any case, Violet still thought that being denied of food was still a better way to go then being someone else's meal.

Ironic, no? While the zombies were busy eating people, the people were busy trying to find their own food.

Maybe they should go all cannibal too, then the problem would be solved.

Violet snorts at the idea as she idly stares out the window from the first floor room that officially became hers in the last few days. Outside there are some brain eating monsters wandering around, probably looking for someone they can eat but she doesn't really see them. Her mind is elsewhere.

Her mind is on her boy, as usual.

God, she misses him. She misses him _so much_. Not knowing what happened to him was slowly killing her inside.

He never answered any of her calls, even though she had tried to get a hold of him at least a dozen times that day and the next. She stopped after that, because it was clear Tate didn't have his phone with him wherever he was, if he did he would call her back, she was sure of that. He must have lost it somehow.

_Or he could be dead, _something inside her head whispers, but that is just an option she would not consider.

Tate wouldn't leave her by herself in this world. She knows he would always fight with all he had in him when it came down to her and her safety. That's one thing she could always count on.

Previously she thought it was ridiculous how protective he was of her but if that protectiveness would help him fight just a little harder to survive, then she would never make fun of him for it ever again.

Yes, Tate would most certainly fight to survive and find her again, so she had no need to worry.

Hell, knowing him, he probably enjoys killing all those fucking zombies, she thinks with a small smile. She would enjoy it too, if her family would let her set foot anywhere outside of this house, of course.

The image of herself slaying zombies alongside with Tate sounds strangely appealing to her. Not her ideal lifestyle, no, but she would take that over this, over her own personal prison and the loneliness in a heartbeat.

Because she's lonely, so incredibly lonely.

Her mother was in a cathartic half-lunatic state most of the time, except when it came to telling Violet that under no circumstances is she allowed outside, and when Vivien herself had to go to fetch some food for themselves. Those times she was almost like the old Vivien. The other times, she sat without moving an inch on the couch with a blank expression on her face, or cried and rocked herself to sleep.

Although her grandmother repeatedly fussed over her and tried to make sure she was okay at all times, Violet felt it was only superficial and all it did was make her extremely annoyed. She only ever inquired about physical injuries - and honestly, what injuries would she have if she was always locked up? - or if she was hungry or tired. She never asked her how she felt, how was she dealing with the situation. She never asked if she was mentally, emotionally okay.

Her grandmother, she decided, was just like her parents were in that aspect. Blind and shallow.

And her grandfather? Well, her grandfather cared more about making sure his family was safe and alive than the emotional state of his 17 year old granddaughter, and Violet could hardly blame him for that.

Honestly, she doesn't really blame anyone. She accepted her family's behavior towards her a long time ago, back when there wasn't a Tate to care for her and love her. But then Tate did come along and she got used to never being alone anymore.

Now that Tate isn't here and she's stuck with a mother and grandparents who neglect her, she feels lonely again. She forgot just how depressing that feeling can be.

She tries to block it out. She's tough, she tells herself, she doesn't need anyone. Except that's farthest from the truth.

She needs Tate, she needs him to live and come back to her and heal her so she won't feel like she's losing her mind anymore. She just needs... _him_.

But the truth is that even if he's alive, how high are the chances that they'll ever cross paths again? Not high, she supposes. And if they never meet again, if he never holds her in his arms, if she never whispers _'I love you'_ in his ear, then what is she going to do? How is she going to know what happened to him? How will she ever be happy again?

The loneliness weighs down on her shoulders and it's worse than ever. It's suffocating her, making it hard to breathe in the room that suddenly feels tinier than before and she doesn't even think about what she's doing as she stands up from her chair and opens the window wide, sticking her head out.

She pays no attention to the zombies on the street, suddenly howling louder now that they can smell fresh meat because they can't get to her from where she is, so just let them crave and yearn and pine for her. Serves them right.

She closes her eyes and takes in deep breaths of fresh air and luckily for her, it seems to be working - she feels calmer now, more composed. Until she makes the mistake of opening her eyes.

And oh boy, it's a _great_ mistake.

Because for the first time today since she started staring out the window, she actually looks at the zombies and sees them. There are more of them now than usually, probably because they can smell her and they came to try and get a bite out of her, but one of them in particular stands out.

The one with the curly blonde hair and very familiar features.

She reels back in shock, almost falling over and knocking the lamp off the table in the process. It can't be. No, it can't be him, can it?

She closes her eyes again and wills the hallucination to go away and leave her alone because she was already dancing on the edge of her sanity and she doesn't need to be pushed over. She has to hold on, she has to fight. If Tate is out there, fighting for her, she has to do the same.

A few minutes pass but she doesn't dare opening her eyes, not until a light laugh fills her ear, followed by a soft whisper. "It's not me. You can open your eyes."

She does. And what she sees makes her stagger backwards until she hits the edge of the bed, slumping to the floor like a rag doll, a broken sob stuck in her throat.

Tate is standing in front of her in all his glory, hands in his pocket, a careless smirk on his face, a mischievous gleam in his eyes and he's looking at her like nothing's wrong.

Oh. So she was already pushed over the edge.

"You're not real." Her voice is breathy, almost inaudible. She runs a hand through her hair, holding back the traitorous tears threatening to escape. God, what is happening to her?

"No," fake-Tate agrees, settling down on the floor, sitting criss cross in front of her, the pleasant smile still on his face. The sight is so achingly familiar, it gets the tears to start flowing. "But that zombie wasn't real either. Well, he wasn't me. Not everyone with blonde and curly hair is me, Vi," he explains in a voice people usually use when they're talking to little kids. Or completely lunatics, like in her case. "I'm back in Los Angeles."

Violet barely hears anything he says. She's too busy rocking herself back and forth, with her head in her hands, murmuring _"You're not real"_ under her breath over and over again, like that would change anything. She really is, _literally_, going crazy, she realizes with a start. She's more like Vivien than she originally thought.

"Violet, Violet, look at me. Look at me." His voice eventually breaks through the fog in her brain and she tentatively raises her head, inspecting him with careful, guarded eyes. He looks real, she has to admit that. But he isn't, he had confirmed it himself. How could he be when he's right, the real Tate is back in Los Angeles. This Tate is no more than a hallucination of her very very fucked up mind.

And she wants him to go. Now. Because she can't afford to go off the wall right now and because he's not fucking real. And fake-Tate just won't do it for her. She wants the actual Tate Langdon or no Tate Langdon at all.

"You're not real. Go away. Go away!" She screams the last part with her eyes closed and tears running down her face, and then all is quiet for a while, making her believe that he's gone. But he's not, he's still there, still sitting in front of her. His cheery expression is gone now, replaced by a devastated, sad one, which almost makes her feel bad for yelling at him and hurting his feelings until she remembers that he's still _not fucking real_, so it doesn't matter. "Why can't you just go away?" she sobs, wiping away the snivel from her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. She must be a truly pathetic sight right now. "God, I'm going crazy."

"Violet." He reaches out to touch her arm, try to comfort her but she pulls back instantly before his skin could come in contact with hers, shrieking _"Don't touch me"_ desperately. She doesn't want this fake-Tate touching her. She doesn't know if she could even feel it, if his touch would be as warm and as gentle as the real Tate's is, or if he couldn't even touch her, his fingers sliding through her arm like a ghost, but she doesn't want to find out.

He pulls his hand away, leaning back on his legs, and by the look on his face she can tell that she's really hurt him this time. Is it bad that she doesn't give a fuck?

"Is that what you want? You want me to go away?"

"Yes." Her answer comes without hesitation and then he's gone. Just like that.

She breaks down then and lets herself cry and weep for a few short minutes before she decides that she can't fucking go on like this anymore. She needs to do something before she loses it completely and settles for doing nothing all day like her mother, sitting and staring at nothing in particular.

She needs to find Tate. Whatever the cost.

She storms down the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and pauses for only a moment to see what her family is up to.

Her grandmother is making dinner in the kitchen while Vivien sits at the table and watches the tiles with lifeless, unseeing eyes - yeah, big surprise there - and her grandfather is in the living room, reading one of his old books to pass the time.

She strolls towards her mother with determination in her steps and doesn't even get deterred when she repeatedly calls her name to no avail. It's like she doesn't even hear her but Violet doesn't care because she's finally found a goal she can chase and she's not going to give that up.

She's going back to Los Angeles. She's going to find Tate.

Her grandmother tries to help her get Vivien's attention with a worried look in her eyes, laying a comforting hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Vivien, dear..."

"Mom, I'm going back to Los Angeles."

That gets her attention.

Her eyes suddenly come to life and she lifts her head to stare incredulously at Violet. Her voice, only a breathy whisper, sounds disoriented when she speaks. "What?"

"You heard me. I'm going back to Los Angeles." It sounds so simple when she says it but it carries a heavy weight. It seems as though Vivien can't even comprehend the meaning of the sentence.

"Violet, what are you talking about?"

"Mom, we can't stay here forever." She raises her voice in self-defense because she can see that her mother is beginning to gather what she's trying to say and she's about to shoot her idea down. "That store is going to run out of food sometime. And then what are you gonna do?"

Vivien stands up from her seat and crosses her arms in a typical _'You're-talking-nonsense'_ fashion. Violet can see it in her body posture and the look on her face that she has already decided to deny her request, without even really considering it. "You're being crazy, Violet."

She almost snorts. _You have no fucking idea._

"We have a house in Los Angeles. A much bigger house than this." She gestures around the room. "We would be safer there."

"And what about while we're on the road? Would we be safe then? Los Angeles is all the way across the country." That's true. She got her on this one and they both know it. That's why Violet decides to aim for the place that hurts the most.

"You're just being a coward. Like usual."

Vivien physically reels back like she was just slapped, hurt written all over her face and Violet almost feels bad for her until she speaks again. "Is this about Tate?" Looks like she's decided to play dirty too. Well, it's game on then.

Violet's eyes visibly darken at the mention of his name and her lips curl into an angry snarl as she crosses her arms across her chest too. "So what if it is? I'm still right."

"Violet, I understand that you love him..."

"No, you don't!" she lashes out angrily, shaking her head. "You and Dad haven't been in love for years, what do you remember what it feels like?" Vivien opens her mouth in shock, unable to even react properly for a moment, then she gets that reprimanding look in her eyes which she uses when she's deeply disappointed in her daughter and Violet realizes that she might have crossed the line. But honestly, she doesn't even care. She turns around, throwing a curt_ 'goodbye'_ at her grandparents who have been watching the scene unfold quietly, then stalks towards the door, her hand on the doorknob. That's when Vivien decides to speak up again.

Well, more like yell at the top of her lungs.

"Violet, you are not going anywhere!"

"Or what?" She whirls around, her hair flying everywhere in the process, her eyes blazing and her fists clenched. She's getting angrier and angrier by each passing moment, and she's starting to breathe harder the more worked up she gets. "You're gonna make me stay? Like you made me come here? I didn't even wanna go but you and Dad had to insist to keep up this ridiculous charade of a happy family we're actually not! Instead of being here, stuck in this fucking house with all of you people, I could be there, with Tate, with someone who actually cares about me."

"I care about you," Vivien snaps up, matching Violet's fury. Disbelief colors her voice at her daughter's accusation. "How can you say that?"

"You show it in a very weird way." She's quieter now, but her words sting just as much as before.

Vivien lets out an inaudible sigh and buries her face in her hand in exhaustion. This is too much for her. She didn't ask for this, she didn't sign up for it. Why is this happening to them?

When she gathers the strength to look up again, she finds her daughter hovering close to the door, watching her with an unreadable expression on her face. She approaches her slowly, grabbing her face in her hands and forcing her to look her in the eyes as she starts talking again. "Violet, you have to understand, I can't let you go." She begs her to understand but naturally, Violet is having none of it.

She shakes herself free of her mother's grip immediately. She would stand her ground in this fight. "I'm not asking for your permission."

"You're 17. You have no choice."

"Considering everything that's happened... I don't think those rules from before apply anymore."

"And what are you going to do, huh? How are you going to get there?" Vivien tries to remain calm but it's obvious she's getting frustrated again. "You can't drive."

Oh. Well, she hasn't thought of that. That will be a problem. But she wouldn't let her mother know that. "... I'll figure out something." Unfortunately for her, her voice sounds just as convincing as she feels right now, so basically not at all, and it's enough for Vivien to think she's won this war.

Her voice is softer and kind as she tries to console Violet. "Honey, I just want you to be safe."

"But..." she trails off as she tries to find the right words to express how she's feeling right now and _all the tim_e, her eyes filling up with tears again. She can feel them reflect in her voice too. "I don't feel safe without him. I'm losing my mind." She turns towards her mother, not even bothering to hide the moisture in her eyes. This time it's her who's begging the other to understand. "How is that safe?" They're both quiet for a while. Violet looks away uncomfortably because of the amount of emotion she let herself show and dries her tears while Vivien rubs her arms comfortingly and by pitying look on her face, she knows that she's breaking through the ice. "I'm going, Mom. The question is: do I have to go alone?"

Vivien knows now that she was wrong. She didn't win the war. Of course she didn't, she should have known better. She should've known that Violet wouldn't give this up, not this, not now. She was always a very stubborn girl, and if she didn't want her daughter to sneak out in the middle of the night to try to find her way back to Los Angeles only God knows how, then Vivien knows she has to cave in. With a heavy sigh, she shakes her head, admitting defeat. "No, you don't. But it's getting dark outside, why don't you go and rest for a bit, and we'll go tomorrow?"

Violet's head snaps up in surprise, her eyes full of hope. "Really? You mean it?"

"I think I do. Come on." She takes hold of her arm, leading her towards the stairs, telling her to go to sleep now and Violet obeys without a word because she realizes that she really does feel tired all of the sudden. She turns back towards her mother on the top of the stairs, telling her with her eyes what she can't say with her words, that she's grateful and she really appreciates this, and that she didn't really mean all those things she said earlier, even if that's not true. She meant them but Vivien doesn't have to know.

"Vivien, are you sure this is a great idea?" She hears her mother approach her from behind as Violet disappears to her room. She turns around to gauge her reaction, taking note of the slightly disapproving look in her eyes. She doesn't think this is a great idea either.

"She's right, Mother. We can't stay here forever."

"But Los Angeles? That's so far away."

"I know my daughter. She's not going to rest until she gets what she wants. And I can't let her go alone. This is my only option," Vivien explains then pauses briefly, inspecting the woman in front of her closely. She and her mother, they've never been close. She didn't know how to express her emotions, she didn't know how to properly care for her daughter, so she preferred to make herself seem like she was a cold, unforgiving woman. Because of that, Vivien felt like she never really had a mother. But right now... she feels like she needs her in her life anyway. Because God knows, she can't do this alone. "Will you... be coming with us?"

Her mother doesn't answer immediately. She's weighing her options, Vivien can see that and she almost accepts the fact that she's going to have to do this without her parents, when she turns back to her husband, barking an order at him. "Get your things packed. We're leaving tomorrow."

* * *

She's been trying and failing to fall asleep for at least an hour now when he approaches her. She knows he's there because she can feel him watching her - the real Tate always did that too, watched her sleep, in a creepy yet romantic way.

He hovers at the side of her bed, uncertain because of what happened earlier - which is ridiculous because he's just a creation of her own mind, how could he be uncertain? - and she decides right there that there must be a reason why her brain chose this moment to come up with him again. It's trying to tell her something. And she's pretty sure she knows what.

She realizes it's pretty fucking cheesy, but she always had problems sleeping without Tate, ever since that first time he stayed over at her house after he took her virginity, and it's no different now. So her brain - what a clever, clever brain - came up with this substitute just so she can fall asleep and not die out of exhaustion. And she's grateful for it.

Earlier she was repulsed by the idea of talking to him, let alone letting him touch her, but now she's just fucking tired and she has no strength to be mad or sad or disgusted. She just wants to sleep. And if pretending that this fake-Tate was her real Tate would help, then she would do that, no regrets, no apologies.

"I'm sorry I yelled earlier," she whispers into the dark just to let him know that she's not angry anymore and she's not going to send him away again. He hums quietly and she lets out a relieved sigh when he climbs into bed with her, intertwining their fingers and holding onto her tightly. Turns out his touch really is as warm and comforting as the real Tate's.

"It's okay," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair. "Sleep, Violet."

And this time around, it only takes her three minutes to fall asleep into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

* * *

**Can I just say that I love half-crazy Violet? So much fun.**

**Also, shameless self-advertisement here. I wrote another Violate story a few days ago so if you haven't checked it out yet, maybe you'd like to? It was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but more than one people added it to their alerts, so I figured what the heck, that must be a sign. I'm considering continuing it, I might even have a stable idea, but only after I finished this. **

**Well, until next time, guys.**

**Kathy**


	5. Superstition

_the beginning is the end is the beginning_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

* * *

_**Chapter 05 - Superstition **_

Tate has never been superstitious in any way. In his opinion it's a silly obsession of stupid people and nothing more than that.

So when he sees a black cat on the sidewalk, walking away from him - a considerably bad luck symbol in some cultures - he pays no mind to it. Instead he just simply wonders how cat meat would taste because these days, food can never be enough.

_Desperate times, desperate measures,_ he thinks but lets the cat walk away - for now.

* * *

On the 19th day, they finally meet a small group of survivors.

Three men and a woman.

It's at least encouraging. Not everyone is dead after all.

They stop to exchange stories and experiences, and warn each other of possible dangers laying ahead on the road.

"You should probably avoid big cities if you can, there's more of them there," one of the men shakes his head, his eyes lost in a dark memory. "We made the mistake of crossing through Detroit. We lost Melissa there." He eyes the blonde woman to his right who starts weeping quietly at the mention of that, trying to stifle her sobs with her hand. The man sighs, the haunted look on his face returning. "And we barely made it through Boston in the first place."

Tate's head snaps up. He hasn't been paying much attention before but now he's looking at him anxiously, choking out only one word. "Boston?"

"Yeah," he nods, slightly confused at the young boy's reaction. "That's where we came from."

For a moment he's too caught up in his emotions to speak. He doesn't even know what he's really feeling – hope, excitement, fear? After all, what are the chances they know Violet or saw her ever since this whole thing started, even if they're from Boston?

_ But what if they did and she's dead?,_ a voice whispers in his ear.

_ And what if she's not and they can finally confirm it?,_ he retorts back.

Nora throws him a worried look, laying a hand on his shoulder, silently asking him if he's okay. Tate registers none of it.

"Do you, by any chance, know a girl named Violet Harmon? Or…" he trails off, trying to remember Vivien's maiden name because even if they don't know Violet maybe they know her grandparents but he can't recall it. It starts with a '_G'_, he thinks. Or was it an '_R'_?

_Goddammit._

The man shakes his head slowly and there's no recognition on the others' faces either. "Not familiar."

"And you haven't met any survivors?" His eyes are wide and hopeful and it makes the man uncomfortable to let him down again.

"The only survivors we met were an old lady and her son, and that was in a little town close to Detroit."

Tate buries his face in his hand and bites his lip to keep from screaming. He should have known better than to get his hopes up but he did anyway and now he's paying for it. These poor bastards know nothing about Violet or how she is. She's just as unattainable for him as she was before.

Nora starts rubbing his shoulder in a comforting manner, trying to soothe him. "Don't worry, Tate, that doesn't mean anything. I'm sure she's fine."

He nods but right now he feels very unconvinced of that. It's been so long. So many days. Who knows where she is, what she's doing, how she is?

Does she think about him? Does she worry about his safety too?

He hopes she knows he's okay and looking for her.

The man clears his throat to get Tate's attention, giving him one last advice before they get up to leave. "If you're heading to Boston, I suggest you think twice. A woman is not worth all that mess and blood."

Tate gives him a humorless smile and shakes his head. "You're wrong. She's worth it."

She's worth it and more.

* * *

After that incident he's distracted the whole day.

They find a house to stay in before it gets dark and he offers to make a quick stop to a store because they need food no matter what, but Nora is having none of it.

"Don't be ridiculous, Tate. With the state you're in, you would only get yourself killed. Charles will go, won't you, Charles?"

He would object but she's right and he's not in the mood to die today. So he lets Charles go.

But he never does come back.

* * *

The baby is crying, Nora keeps murmuring curses under her breath, and her attempts to calm her son are futile. Charles is still gone.

After it became obvious that he wasn't coming back, it was too late to go after him - in the darkness outside Tate wouldn't have stood a chance against the zombies. So he waited until morning and with that he practically assured that they wouldn't be finding Charles alive, if he wasn't dead he would have come back.

He'd say he's sorry but he's not.

One less person to worry about.

Granted, he would have been happier if it was the baby who left them, he thinks as he throws Thaddeus an angry look. He's been crying nonstop for hours now and not only it's getting on his nerves, but he's worried one of the undeads outside will hear. He'll be happy as soon as he can leave this fucking house to go hunt down Charles.

"Mrs. Montgomery… Nora." He approaches the woman while she rocks her baby in her arms back and forth, shushing him with an annoyed look on her face. He still has to remind himself to call her Nora like she had insisted many times before. "I'm going to go to look for your husband."

"Yes, yes," she nods, not taking her eyes off her son. He can see that she doesn't really give a damn about the fate of her husband and her next words confirm his theory. It's ironic, how she couldn't care less, and here he is, dedicating all his time and energy to find Violet. He would give anything just to have her right beside him but she's not here. And Nora, who up until now had her husband by her side, never even appreciated it. "That stupid bastard, I bet all my money he's dead. Can you believe that? The apocalypse is here and he has the nerve to leave me alone with this… this _thing_," she snarls, motioning to the wailing baby in her arms with her head. Tate watches her cautiously, frowning. This is a side of Nora he's never seen before and he doesn't like it. "Why won't you just stop crying?" she shrieks, shaking Thaddeus forcefully. If he didn't hope so much that he would die, he might have taken the child away from her. Suddenly she looks back at him, a half smile playing on her face and she looks downright crazy in that moment. "But what do I expect? When his father is such a _pussy_ himself. You are twice the man he is." She lets out a maniac little laugh. "Find him, will you? And give his corpse a good kick in the guts for me."

Tate has no idea how to react to that so he doesn't. Instead he places a spare gun on the table right in front of Nora, giving her some instructions. "Just in case. And don't leave the house."

Then he's off.

* * *

He finds the Montgomerys' truck parked in front of the shop, Charles nowhere to be seen.

Since he took the minivan yesterday, Tate had to hotwire an abandoned car and he's never been more grateful that he learned how to do that thanks to Constance who was always a cunt and didn't want to give him the keys to her Audi. Who knew she would be helpful to him in any way one day?

He inspects the car and then the shop but he can't find any traces of the man anywhere. Wherever he is, he isn't here.

He sighs and after a moment of hesitation he decides that after loading himself up with some stocked up food, he'll be heading back to Nora. Charles is simply not worth the hassle – he doesn't care about what happened to him and neither does his wife. He's probably dead anyway.

When he leaves the store and puts the food in the back of the minivan, getting ready to drive away, something catches his eyes.

A black cat on the side of the road, with its head tilted to the side, almost like it was watching him curiously.

He furrows his eyebrows and stares back for a moment, before writing it off as a mere coincidence. There is no way it's the same cat from before. Then he gets in the van and drives back to the house.

But what he finds is far from what he expected.

* * *

**Just a warning that this may be the last chapter for a while since I'm abroad, visiting grandparents and stuff. But maybe I'm wrong and I'll be able to update. I guess we'll see.**

**Kathy**


	6. Clouds

_the beginning is the end is the beginning_

So I said I might not be able to update for a while. I guess I lied. As much as I love my grandparents, there's not much I can do with them, which leaves me a good amount of free time. And since I have nothing better to do, I dedicate most of it to writing, hence the million new Violate stories and oneshots.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

_**Chapter 06 - Clouds**_

Violet lives only in her dreams and hallucinations now.

It's not healthy, she knows that, but what does she care? None of this is healthy. Being away from Tate is not healthy.

When she sleeps, she dreams of him and how their lives would turn out if it weren't for the zombie apocalypse, five, ten, fifty years from now on.

She would go to college, and he would follow her – because she knows him well enough to know he would never consider going to another school than the one she attends, even if she pressured him – then, with a bit of luck, they would graduate and find jobs for themselves. He would rent an apartment and ask her to move in with him, then later down the road they would get engaged, get married, buy a bigger house and have kids. Grandkids. All that stuff.

Jesus, she never thought she would want those things. It was always too… normal for her. Too white-picket fence.

But she would be lying if she said she didn't like the idea of spending a lifetime with Tate, and having little carbon copies of him and her. She guesses such things like an apocalypse makes people realize what's really important to them.

When she's not asleep, she daydreams.

She images what happened to him since they last talked to each other, how he managed to survive – because he survived, there's no other option – and how they would reunite again one day.

And when she's not doing that, she's spending her time with fake-Tate, who she's grown to like after they slept together and he chased her nightmares away.

He isn't actually bad, if you're willing to overlook the fact that he's not real.

He shows up one day while they're in the car, on their way to Los Angeles. Being on the road isn't actually as dangerous as they all thought it would be, maybe because they always stay in the car, always in motion. Sometimes they stop to get food and gas, but those times they always make sure to be quick and careful, and there haven't been any accidents so far. And although Violet is still locked up, in the car this time around, she has a gun with her now, just in case, and so she finds it easier to shut her mouth and deal with it.

She's looking outside the window of the car, watching the clouds and thinking of those perfect memories when she and Tate climbed up to the roof or just laid in the grass and watched the clouds float by, trying to determine what they looked like, when her fake-Tate appears.

Suddenly he's there, sitting between her and Vivien, breathing into her ear as he shuffles closer to get a better look at the sky.

"I think that one looks like a dragon," he murmurs softly, pressing a little kiss to the spot behind her ear. It always drove her crazy when real-Tate did that, and even now she can't help the delicious shudder running down her spine.

"A dragon? More like a car," she retorts, speaking quietly so her grandparents wouldn't hear. As for her mother, well, Vivien is too out of it to notice anything out of the ordinary.

He laughs loudly. He, on the other hand, isn't in danger of being heard by anyone. "You've always been a crazy one, Vi," he teases her.

"Shut up," she scoffs, but internally she agrees with him. Who else would have a conversation with someone who isn't real on a regular basis?

They continue to watch the clouds, pointing out different and different ones and arguing about what it looks like. It's just like old times. The realization makes Violet's heart hurt but she stores it away in the back of her mind and pretends everything is okay, and this is her real Tate.

"I think that one looks like a zombie," he says once, motioning to one of the clouds, which, in Violet's opinion, looks more like a small kitten than a zombie.

"Funny," she shakes her head at him. "Don't we already have enough of those?"

"You're right," he nods, his voice suddenly quiet and somber. The mood has considerably dropped and Violet doesn't like it. She wants to enjoy those rare moments of contentment for a little while longer. But he's looking at her with a weird look in his eyes that she can't ignore – sadness. Sadness for her.

"What?"

"You know, I'll always be here for you. Even when he's not."

She takes in a sharp breath and looks back to the window. They never talked about _that _because it would make it so much harder to pretend and she curses him for bringing it up now. Just when she was starting to do better…

Must he have to ruin everything?

"But I want _him_," she says at last, still facing away from fake-Tate. The reality of the situation is hitting her hard now, that this isn't her Tate and never will be, no matter how much she wants it and pretends it. He would always be just a substitute.

But she genuinely likes him too so does it really matter?

God, what has her life come to?

Closing her eyes in the sudden exhaustion that comes over her, not because of lack of sleep, but because she's simply tired of _life_ itself, she waits for answer but it never comes. When she looks back to where Tate… fake-Tate was sitting, she finds a now empty seat. He left.

He got hurt because of what she said and he left. He's just as sensitive, just as jealous as real Tate is, she discovers with a snort. It's almost comical.

Sighing, she rests her head on the cool glass of the window and wonders what she should do now. She doesn't want to be alone and without a Tate, whichever Tate it is. But how can she appease one Tate while still longing for the other? She doesn't know.

She falls asleep with similar thoughts on her mind and dreams of a better world where she and Tate can be happy once again.

* * *

**Short and filler chapter, I know… But Tate's next chapter will be an important one so stayed tune for that :)**

**Kathy**


	7. Connection

_the beginning is the end is the beginning_

I'm sorry if the beginning of the chapter is a bit boring for some of you, I know it's a Violate story, but I wanted to show what happened to Nora when Tate left to go after Charles, and then it kinda became about her past life too... But I'm not really sorry, I liked writing her. I never realized how much of an interesting character I find her to be, until I actually wrote about her.

So maybe it will seem like a very Nora centric chapter, and I guess there's truth in that, but don't worry, there will be Tate in it too ;)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

_**Chapter 07 - Connection**_

Nora and Charles Montgomery's marriage has stopped being a love story a long time ago. _**  
**_

She remembers how it started, with one glance at him on the college campus, and she was a goner. He was charming, attractive and always a complete gentlemen. But the best of it all was how dedicated he was to her. She was the center of his universe, his very own sun in his life, and she loved every minute of it.

It helped that he came from a wealthy family, and he was willing to give her anything and everything she wanted, no matter the prize. She had always dreamed of marrying a rich man, ever since she was a little girl and her grandmother disowned her mother, thus depriving them of all the material goods that Nora's family had enjoyed before.

With Charles, her dreams seemed to be coming true and it didn't take them long to get married.

The first few years were blissful. Charles continued to ravish her with attention and clothes and expensive jewelery, and Nora was just as happy as ever. But then came the fallout.

To this day, she has no idea how it really happened. Charles started to spend less time home and more time in the hospital, or at least that's what he said, and Nora began to think he had an affair. When their money waned, she thought he might be gambling. Or doing drugs.

It turned out to be the latter.

Nora had turned a blind eye to that, refused to think about why he would be so desperate to turn to morphine, and told him to go to rehab. When he returned, to gain their money back, she encouraged him to participate in illegal organ trades, and he agreed without a word, willing to do just about anything to keep her as his wife.

And as a mean to repair their broken marriage, Nora, once again calling the shots in their relationship, decided she wanted children. Charles had no problem with that either.

But things didn't get better. Partaking in illegal organ trades had indeed helped them win some of their money back, but it came with a major consequence Nora didn't foresee. You see, Charles had began to form another unhealthy but very different addiction: his addiction of doing insane experiments in the basement of their house.

She had no idea what he was actually doing or what he was trying to achieve, and she didn't bother to ask him. All she knew that when he wasn't the hospital, or doing his 'other job', he was in the basement, and sometimes he brought people with him, people she never actually saw leaving. She turned a blind eye to that too and pretended she didn't suspect anything. She had to, for her sake and for her unborn baby's sake. Charles was the only one who could support them.

She hoped that once their child was born, he would see the error of his ways and be the man she fell in love with so long ago, but she had no such luck. Charles barely cared for her or for their son, Thaddeus. Nothing interested him, nothing but his experiments, and eventually he lost his job at the hospital.

That was the final straw for Nora. She knew the man she once loved was truly dead and she despised this new Charles who took his place. Sometimes she wished for his death, but those were only fleeting thoughts. If Charles died, she would inherit his money of course, but it wouldn't be enough to support her forever and eventually she would have to start working again. She wanted to avoid that, if possible.

But then this tragedy happened and money became unimportant, and here she is now, finally allowed to hope with all her heart that her husband is dead.

She paces around in what probably used to be the living room as she tries to calm this wailing, crying _thing_ in her arms - her son, it's her son, she reminds herself, but sometimes she wishes he wasn't so she could just abandon him at the side of the road or something. She has this feeling that he will be her downfall sooner or later, and it makes her contemn him just a little bit.

She sees the way Tate looks at the boy when he's screaming, with hatred and disgust and worry in his eyes, and she knows he wishes they could get rid of him too. Nora is not stupid, she knows that one day his nonstop wailing will attract one of those creatures to them.

And maybe that day is today, she thinks as something moving outside catches her eye. As the thing gets closer and she moves to the window to get a better view, she feels dread and a hint of panic rise inside her chest, the sounds coming from Thaddeus completely fading to the background, when she realizes that it hauntingly looks like her husband.

Maybe he isn't dead after all. That will be a problem.

Just as she decides that she cannot have him coming back alive so she'll have to kill him herself, she gets a better look at Charles and notes with a hint of smile on her face that he _is_ dead.

Or maybe undead would be a better word for it.

Very well. All the better reason to put him out of his misery once and for all. She will kill him, shoot him in the head and she will take pleasure in seeing his brains plastered on the sidewalk.

Placing Thaddeus down on the couch, she reaches for the gun and heads for the door. Tate had ordered her to stay in the house at all costs but that command is long forgotten as she steps outside to kill her husband.

There is just one problem she hasn't thought of.

Nora has never in her life used a gun before, and although Tate had taught her how to shoot, he hadn't taught her how to aim. And it's harder than she expected.

The first bullet misses him. The second lodges in his arm. The third hits his chest.

Neither of the wounds deter him and by the time the third gunshot rings out, he's already too close. She has no more time to shoot, she doesn't even have time to close the door. She screams as Charles flies at her but she's lucky enough to be able to run back inside, up the stairs, throwing open the first door she finds, and getting inside, slamming the door shut before he can get to her.

The door clatters as the zombie claws on it, trying to find its way inside, and it's only then that she remembers Tate's warning about staying inside. Guess she should have listened, she thinks as she moves as far away from the door as possible, practically melting into the wall. Her head is spinning in fear, her legs are threating to give out on her and all she can think about is how she doesn't want to be mauled by her husband. She doesn't want to find out what it feels like to be eaten alive.

Reloading the gun so she can have one more chance of shooting him - although with the way her vision is blurring, the odds are against her - she prepares herself the best she can, when the door suddenly stops rattling.

She doesn't understand what happened. Did the monster leave? Zombies weren't exactly best known for their intelligence, they had no brain they could use, so the idea that it might have stopped just to trick her and get her to come out is out of the question. But where did it go?

She only finds out when she hears her baby cry. _Oh God, Thaddeus._ She left him downstairs on the couch.

There's one chilling moment of clarity when time stops and she swears she can feel the world spin around on its axis, then she's falling to her knees, emptying the content of her stomach to the floor. She was so angry at Thaddeus before, so furious he wouldn't stop screaming, but now there's just guilt. To think she had even wished he wasn't hers...

She's up and out the door before she can even register what she's doing. Moving down the stairs, the baby wails get louder and louder, and when she hears chewing, she knows she's too late. As she arrives downstairs, her suspicions are confirmed by the gruesome sight before her. There's Charles, kneeling in front of the couch, and there's Thaddeus, who's finally did what everyone wanted him to do and stopped crying. For good.

Nora closes her eyes tightly, trying to banish the image from her mind but she has a feeling it's burned on her brain permanently. She slaps a hand across her mouth, perhaps to keep her sobs in, perhaps so she wouldn't puke again, and it takes her a good few moments to compose herself. When she feels like she has regained even just the tiniest bit of her strength, she steps closer to her once husband, the gun shaking in her unstable hands as she raises it. She's able to creep up on him because the thing is too busy eating the remains of their son, and she presses her weapon to his head, pulling the trigger before it could attack her too.

And the it's done, but she feels like it'll never really be over.

Sinking to the floor, she wraps her arms around herself, and weeps for her lost baby boy, only the corpses of her husband and son around to hear her desperate cries.

* * *

That's the scene Tate arrives back to.

Nora sobbing on the floor, Charles and Thaddeus dead.

"I shot him. He killed my baby, so I shot him." That's all she says when he questions her, breaking into another fit of hysteria moments later.

He never actually finds out in detail what happened because Nora doesn't stop crying long enough to get out a coherent sentence after that. There's just one thing she says, repeating it over and over again until he begins to grow sick of it, like he was sick of the stupid baby's crying too.

_"Where's my baby?"_

Again and again she asks it. He tells her he's dead, he tells her her husband killed him, he tells her he became a zombie too so he had to shoot him, he even tells her he's just sleeping in the other room. She registers none of it, like she doesn't even want a reply, she just likes to repeat her question. He stops answering around the seventh time.

Tate has no idea how to handle her so he just lets her cry. He gives her time till next morning to get better so they can move forward but he has very little hope she'll get better and he's right. She's lost her mind, and like her family, it wasn't coming back anymore.

And maybe part of him is glad for that.

He likes Nora, he genuinely likes her, really, but he has nor the time nor the patience to care for her, especially not now, in this state of her mind. She wouldn't last for long now, he tells himself just to appease the side of him that's sad and even guilty, and she could bring him down with her if he wasn't careful. And then what would happen to Violet?

He undoubtedly feels a connection for the woman who has been his mother more than Constance ever was, who had helped him in his time of need, who had always supported him in his quest of finding Violet, but the connection he feels for Violet is, at the end of the day, stronger.

So he does what he has to do.

He puts the gun to her head and watches as she doesn't even flinch, doesn't beg or try to pull away. She looks resigned, almost peaceful.

Then he pulls the trigger.

* * *

**At first I was going to make Nora kill herself like she did in the show but then I thought it would be more dramatic if Tate had to kill her.  
**

**Anyway, we're nearing the end of the story. I'm excited :)  
**


	8. Survivors

_the beginning is the end is the beginning_

So sorry for being away for so long, I'm not gonna lie, I had no inspiration for this story or basically any story at all. But the inspiration is back now and I'm determined to see this through, so don't worry, I'm not gonna leave it unfinished :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

_**Chapter 08 - Survivors **__  
_

Violet hides her winning smile as her grandmother lays down the same card she needs to win, already gloating in her mind. She has a pack of cards in her hand her grandfather had stolen - or was it even stealing anymore? - from a shop to pass the time, and Tate behind her back, restlessly dedicating his time into pulling her attention away from the game at hand. He succeeds, most of the time, the things he's whispering in her ear making her cheeks flush and her legs press together.

If her grandmother notices - and Violet suspects she does - she doesn't say anything.

Now he presses a kiss to her neck then rubs his nose against her skin playfully and she suppresses her giggle, but even as she bites down hard on her lip, she can't contain her huge grin. Her grandmother throws her a disapproving look and Violet wonders what she must be thinking right now, but she can't have a word against her when her own daughter has lost her marbles and she watches that silently too.

She glances at Vivien in the front seat, staring blankly at the passing scenery, and lets out a sigh. So who's crazier: Vivien, for shutting down completely, or Violet for hallucinating her possibly dead or zombie boyfriend?

Her smile disappears easily now, her eyes losing all their previous shine as the dark, depressing thoughts enter her mind. Lately she's been having doubts. A lot. How long has it been since...? She dares not to think about time often, but she guesses it could have been three, four... god help, five weeks already.

How far is LA still? What if she can't find him in the big city anymore? What if he's not even there, left to a smaller town to survive, or left to find _her_? What would she do then?

Her breathing hitches, leaving her short of air in her lungs, her heart rate speeds up, beating rapidly in her chest. She's sure a panic attack is coming her way when her vision blurs but there's no thought of calming down in her mind when all she can think of is_ Tate, a zombie, Tate, dead, Tate, getting mauled by the undead monsters._

She barely registers letting out a quiet gasp or her grandmother's hands on her arm and her worried eyes, she's consumed in her thoughts, choked by them, until a strong grip on her shoulder turns her around and she comes face to face with those familiar dark as night eyes, boring into her own. It's like a flash of light in overwhelming darkness or a lifejacket for a drowning man. "Violet," he murmurs, his voice soothing, comforting, and she welcomes it gratefully. "Violet, it's okay. Don't panic. It's okay."

He stares into her eyes until she has no power to resist his spell anymore, completely enthralled, cornered into calming down. For a moment she forgets he's not real, she forgets what made her so upset in the first place, she fails to see anything else besides him as she leans in to kiss those soft enticing lips she's been dying to touch. It's a strangely peaceful moment, one she hasn't experienced in a long time, but now her obliviousness makes it possible.

Sadly though, all happy minutes have to end sometime.

It's her grandmother who pulls her out of this state, calling her name impatiently and when she turns back around, she's looking at her like an alien, which is honestly rather offending. She opens her mouth to make a nasty comment but she's interrupted by the sudden slowing of the vehicle. Her grandfather pulls the car to a halt and everyone simultaneously turns to see what's happened, even Vivien coming back to life again.

Violet's first thought is that they've run out of gas but as she looks out the window she realizes she's wrong. There's another car at the side of the road, a couple standing next to it with a teenage boy who she supposes is their son. He looks around her age. But the best part: they're most certainly not undead.

Her eyes widen rather comically, almost thinking she's just imagining things again. She has long ago given up on hope that they'll ever encounter survivors - who are not Tate, that is - after so long she just assumed there was no one else left, and those who did remain against the odds were hiding or constantly on the move, like them.

Seeing other people besides her degraded family and her imaginary Tate was not only surprising but freshening too. It means they're not the only ones left in this world. It means... that there's a chance they'll find Tate alive too.

And that's all she's asking for.

* * *

It turns out the family's Jeep broke down in the middle of the road and her grandfather, god bless his kind heart, offers to help them fix it. While the men work, the women are chatting idly, and Violet notes with delight that even Vivien is taking her part out of the conversation. It's just too bad that, from her experiences, this development won't last long.

Violet stands leaning against their car, arms crossed, with Tate next to her, mimicking her pose, and she finds it funny how he growls deep in his throat, his hands falling to his side as they clench into fists when the teenage boy approaches her. She pats his head, almost like she's telling him to stay put, like he's a fucking dog, and he opens his mouth to say something but the intruder beats him to it.

"Hey. I'm Gabe." He holds his hand out and she hesitates for a moment before shaking it, while Tate rolls his eyes next to her.

"Violet." She almost turns to introduce Tate before she remembers and bites down hard on her lip to keep the words in.

"It's crazy, isn't it?" He settles against the hood of the car, looking down at her. She can only imagine what they might look like: him, trying to make some fragment of a conversation, her, looking completely apathetic, and Tate, silently fuming and glaring daggers at the poor unsuspecting boy.

"I think I got used to it."

"How can you? It's just... awful."

"The world's always been awful," she shrugs. "It just wasn't that obvious before. Well... not for people like you at least."

"People like me?" He raises an eyebrow and she turns to look at him square in the eyes for the first time.

"People without a care in the world."

His lack of response tells her she's right. Before all this he was just another ordinary happy-go-lucky teenage boy who's biggest problem was which parties to attend and which girls to screw. It's because of people like him, she thinks, and their ignorance that this happened. Mother nature had enough.

Tate snickers quietly, his face gloating and smug. If he's more pleased by the demise of the boy or Violet sharing his grand views on life, she's not sure.

In the quiet that follows after, she can distantly hear the women conversing but she's not really paying attention, not until Tate's name comes up.

"And where are you heading?" Gabe's mother asks.

"Los Angeles."

"That's so far away."

Vivien nods, biting her nails, a habit she picked up when she wasn't being a brain dead zombie - no pun intended. Violet steps closer to hear their conversation better just as her mother answers and had Vivien known she was listening in she probably wouldn't have said what she said, but as it is she was standing with her back turned on Violet so she couldn't have known. "My daughter seems to think we'll find her boyfriend there. Honestly I just think we'll find a corpse. Or nothing at all."

"Mom."

The icy tone of her daughter makes the woman turn around, her mouth opening in surprise, and something like shame washes across her face but Violet is beyond caring. She's looking at her mother like Vivien only ever saw her looking at Ben, the face that says: _I loathe you and your existence and the fact that I'm even related to you and I'd rather be dead than call you as my mother._

"Violet..."

The voice calling her name doesn't belong to her mother but to Tate but she ignores that too. White hot rage burns behind her eyes as she throws her mother one last look of contempt, then she turns around, wanting nothing more than to rampage and destroy and kill - she spent too much time with Tate, she thinks - but instead she starts walking, the shouts of her name and questions directed at her all flying by her ear.

When Tate tries to follow her she promptly tells him to go away and go away he does. Then she's alone with her thoughts.

She can't believe her. She can't fucking believe her.

The nerve!

What was she thinking anyway, that she's deaf? That she won't hear it?

Why is she even going through all this trouble if she doesn't think there's a chance they'll find him alive?

Fucking Vivien.

She doesn't even know about half the things happening around them, with being vegetative and all. She can't have a word.

_Fuck her._

"Violet." It's Gabe. She doesn't slow down her pace. "Where are you going?"

"You know, Gabe, this is not the right time or place to hit on me."

"I'm not hitting on you," he shakes his head, still trying to catch up with her. "I just miss the company of someone my age... Hey, seriously, slow down. You do want to find that boy, right? No use getting yourself killed before you could."

She comes to a halt, but only because his comment hits home. _He's right._ Think of Tate. Gabe looks pleased that he was able to stop her while she looks less than amused, her_ 'don't fuck with me' _look still in place.

"I'm sorry... about that. You know I'm kind of in the same situation."

She looks at him now, surprised, disbelieving and suspicious at the same time. "How so?"

"I have someone... who went on a holiday when it happened. To Europe." She can't help her pitying look when he confesses, because fuck, that's so much worse than her situation. She can't even imagine. Europe? He would never be able to get to Europe like this. If Tate was there... She would surely die. The poor kid. She now feels bad about the things she said earlier. He obviously doesn't have it easy anymore. But then again, no one does.

"It sucks that it had to happen on Easter, doesn't it?"

"Have you talked to her ever since?" she wonders. Was it just Tate who didn't answer any calls?

"Yes, I've talked to _him_, once."

"Him? Oh you mean..."

"Yes," he nods, smiling softly at her apologetic look. "Everything was still so fresh, he was trying to catch one of the planes to get home. Then nothing. I don't know if he ever got on that plane, if he's dead, if he's still stuck in Italy." He looks at her sideways, a strange gleam in his eyes that she thinks might be tears. "But you know all about that."

She nods and tries hard to swallow back a sob. The only man she's ever seen crying - besides her father, who could be hardly called a man - was her Tate. It didn't look gay or weak or pathetic on him, she always thought it made him strong, for being able to show so much emotion without shame. She loved that about him.

Seeing Gabe cry reminded her of that.

She clears her throat, taking long deep breaths to compose herself. She wants to ask him if he's having hallucinations too or is it just her, but she figures that might cross the borderline of crazy so she doesn't. It's probably only just her. Genes from Vivien and all.

Instead she asks, "How do you do it? How do you cope?" She would take any advises that might make her feel better.

"I don't." His voice is quiet, almost dead, and she marvels how quickly his seemingly cheery personality changed to this. "I mostly just try to keep the hope alive."

_Hope for what?_, she thinks but doesn't ask. There was nothing left anymore. If she finds Tate life won't be easier, just better. But the things they have to endure day to day will eventually kill them all.

These depressing thoughts could have very well been the end of her.

She almost doesn't hear the shout of her name in time, too alarmed and panicked to mean anything good, and she instinctively looks to her left as if she could feel it. They were here. About a dozen of them, emerging from the trees.

Surprisingly, she doesn't freak out, even though this is the closest she's ever been to one of them - after the case with her father. It's as if she was trained for these situations, and that's the only thing saving her life now. Her hand automatically reaches for the gun she keeps with herself, but she knows her best option is to run, back to the car, where her family is already waiting for her so they could drive away.

Fixing the Jeep was abandoned, Gabe's parents are already inside, but Violet has an inkling it won't save them. If the car won't start, they're doomed.

Both teenager run harder than they've ever run in their life but only one of them is meant to survive.

Gabe trips and falls and that's pretty much it for him. Violet looks back, just for a moment, but the zombies are already biting into his skin and there's nothing she could do to save him.

She forces herself to look away, to take a deep breath and continue running, and not think about how his death is the reason she can get away. As long as the things are preoccupied with him, they won't come after her.

It makes her feel physically ill and she wants to throw up but she doesn't, her legs carrying on until she reaches the car, getting inside with lightening speed. Tate is already waiting for her there but she shakes off his touch too because he's still not real, he'll never be fucking real, and now it's her fault someone out there, a boy in Italy, just lost their own Tate.

She tries not to look at the parents as her grandfather drives by them, but she can't help one glance. The mother cries, the father stares ahead with an expressionless look in his eyes, and they both look like criminals sentenced to death, waiting for their inevitable death.

Violet has no doubt in her mind that they won't have to wait long.

* * *

**I'm thinking of joining livejournal and/or AO3. I actually have an account on both, I just don't use them, they look complicated :D I don't know, should I? Is it even worth it, what can they do that FF can't?**

**Oh, and you all Violators should check out my new icon. It might not show yet, but I just about died when I saw it. And I might have cried... but you'll never know.**

**Kisses, guys :)**


	9. Stranded

_the beginning is the end is the beginning_

I just want to say that I would have updated sooner but sometimes life gets in the way and death is just an awful way of that._  
_

Also, Violet might seem a little out of character at times... but we all know she's full of shit when she says when she's not afraid of anything.

Oh, and Happy (early) Halloween you guys! :)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

**_Chapter 09 - Stranded  
_**

She can't quite explain it but she has this weird feeling in the pit of her stomach from the moment she wakes up that day. Something is coming.

A change.

She can smell in the air.

She hopes maybe it means she'll find Tate today but of course things are never _that_ simple.

* * *

Tate doesn't come around anymore. Fake Tate, not her Tate. (Of course her Tate doesn't come around either so there is really no difference anymore, but she refuses to think about that.)

She banished him, for good, around a week ago, because he was never going to be enough, not really. He was only a temporary comfort, nice, pretty, perfect enough to make her forget just for a while, but too imperfect to last forever.

The strangest part is that she doesn't miss him. Not _him_. But Tate.

The real Tate.

And missing him has her slipping into depression quite fast. It's alarming how quickly you can lose your mind, she realizes. It's so easy to just let the days pass you by in a blur, stop caring, stop living. So easy to let it all go. She can't even detest her mother anymore, because she's the same. She's always been the same, always had the tendency to abuse herself, physically _and_ mentally.

(She remembers when she used to cut, before Tate. She remembers all those times when she thought she wasn't good enough and that's why her parents didn't care for her, didn't love her.)

All she has now is her memories of him and of happier days, and those pictures she's taken with her phone when he was not looking. But her battery's dead and her charger is lost somewhere, so really, it's just the memories which will fade soon enough.

Then he'll be really gone, like he never existed.

Did he?

Or was it just a fantasy she came up with to comfort herself?

She sighs, pressing her cheek to the cool window glass, welcoming the chilly sensation. It's already starting. It won't be long before she totally goes off the wall, even if she tries to prolong the procedure, for as long as she can. In a world without people, without a purpose and a future, all alone, hunted every hour, every day of the week, she's doomed to fail. She will probably end up like them, brainless, stupid, starving for human flesh and...

Her thoughts are rudely interrupted when the car stops in the middle of nowhere for seemingly no reason and oh god, not again. She's been in this scene before and she knows how it ends, with blood, tears and zombies, but when she looks outside there's no jeep and no family, stranded on the side of the road.

However her grandfather is getting out of the car and everyone soon follows as he looks at the jeep with distress, scratching the back of his head. Violet prepares for the worst when he speaks up.

"We got a flat tire," he sighs and all of Violet's worries are eased. She's just about to sit back in the car and let her grandfather deal with it when her mother asks if they have any spare tires and the older man shakes his head.

"We don't have any spare tires?"

"No."

"Then what?" Violet wonders, furrowing her eyebrows. "We're... stranded." The truth of her sentence hits her hard, knocking the wind out of her. They were really stranded, with waning food and ammo, no way to protect themselves. Who knows how far the closest town was? Who knows if there were any wandering zombies nearby?

Reality was darker now than ever.

She presses a shaking hand to her heart, fighting a panic attack coming her way, and wonders when she became this terrified, unstable girl. _Weak_. If she wasn't so preoccupied with trying not to get eaten, she would have been disgusted with herself.

Her grandfather is already scanning the map when she comes back to her senses, his fingers following different routes on the paper, probably trying to work out the closest destination. When he seems satisfied with what he came up with, he turns back to the other members of the family, standing next to his wife. "We're lucky, there is a little town nearby, half an hour at most walking. We'll go try to find new tires, you stay here in the car until then. If we're not back within two hours, well..." the man trails off, a meaningful look in his eyes before they walk off.

And that is how Violet finds herself stuck in the car for hours with her non-responding, slightly lunatic mother.

* * *

Surprisingly, Violet is not aware of the two hour mark approaching, lost in her dark thoughts of zombies and death, and her happy memories of Tate. On the contrary, Vivien is painfully conscious of every minute ticking by in dead silence. And only five minutes short before two hours have officially passed, she lets out a sigh that sounds more resolved than upset and looks her daughter.

"Violet." She watches as the girl turns to face her, blank eyes slowly coming back to life and it worries her how much she's slipping away from herself. She's out of it more than she probably realizes, lost in her own universe. _Like mother, like daughter,_ Vivien thinks bitterly. "I'm gonna go after your grandparents, okay? You just stay here and..." She presses the weapon into Violet's waiting hands and pauses for a moment. She looked uncomfortable, leaving her daughter completely on her own, but she knew something must be terribly wrong if no one was back yet and she didn't want to put her little girl in danger by dragging her along too. "Just stay in the car, okay?"

Violet nods but she stays silent, fearing she wouldn't be able to stop her voice from wavering if she spoke now. The last thing she wants is to make her mother feel guilty right now, but truthfully she _is_ afraid.

Yeah, that's right, badass, fearless Violet Harmon is scared of a bunch of flesh eating braindead monsters.

It's not the things themselves that scare her or even the idea of death, she doesn't care about that, it's actually the painful means she would die, and it's never seeing Tate again that has her shaking in the backseat, all alone now. Suffering - and there would be a lot of that if she'd ever become the meal of a zombie - scares her. Losing Tate for good terrifies her.

The quiet is screaming at her, overwhelming. Every noise, every small sound could be a zombie, every second the end of her. Her hands hold onto the weapon, gripping it in wild desperation, her only salvation if someone - or rather _something_ - did attack her. It's maddening, maddening really, the waiting. Especially when minutes feel like goddamn hours, when she feels hesitation to even breathe, as if they could hear even the quiet puffs of air leaving her mouth.

That's how the seconds go by, struggling. She has no idea how long she's been sitting there alone, having completely lost her sense of time but it's not dark yet, so it can't be more than a few hours top. That's a good thing, at least.

But she can't help herself from waiting for the moment a zombie crosses her path, and in the end, they do.

A small army of them, it seems.

* * *

It's only one at first. Nothing too trying, even if her heart beats a hundred times faster.

She sinks lower on the seat, trying to disappear, hoping maybe it won't notice her, but no, no such luck - it could probably smell her. The smell of fresh meat.

She takes it down without much trouble, all it takes is one clean shot in the head when it starts clawing on the window to find its way in, and the monster is dead. She might be terrified, but she is _still_ a fighter.

But then more come and there are too many of them, just too many. She can't kill all of them, not by herself, she doesn't even have enough bullets. She can't stay in the car because eventually they _will_ break the windows and then she's fucking doomed. So she does the next best thing she can do, probably her only chance to survive with some miraculous luck: run.

She runs for her life, literally, but she can't run forever and she's no Tate Langdon either. She wasn't on the track team, she didn't even _like_ sports. Of course now it would come back to bite her in the ass.

But she's a fighter, _still_, she reminds herself every time she thinks it would be better to just lay down and die, hell, use one of those bullets on herself to avoid the suffering, she's a fighter and she's not going to give up like that. Tate needs her. He's alive, out there somewhere, and he needs her.

It becomes her mantra, a broken record playing over and over again in her head, but as long as it keeps her alive, she'll take it.

And maybe she really does have miraculous luck, or maybe destiny has decided to have mercy on her. Maybe her strength, her persistence appealed to the fates, and decided the poor girl can catch a break now.

Either way, when she sees a car in the distance, an actual fucking car with real, normal people driving behind the wheel, heading towards her, she probably wouldn't even care if they turned out to be heartless killers and psychopaths, she's so goddamn happy.

It's a like sign, - although she doesn't even believe in those things - a sign that she's meant to live and survive and find Tate. Because even if this is no more than a coincidence, she'll accept it, after all in times like these everyone needs something to hold onto and believe in, or you'll go crazy soon enough.

Violet had fake Tate before to fit that role, but ever since she banished him, there was an ache, a hole in her heart, and she kept slipping away from reality.

That was about to change.

Whoever was driving obviously decided to take pity on the poor girl as the car sprints towards her faster now, and she continues to run until she reaches the door, throwing herself in the front seat before any of the undead things, not too far behind, can reach her.

Her first reaction is to let out a grateful, relieved sigh, _she's fucking escaped them_, then with the same breath she's turning to her savior, a choked gasp leaving her lips as she takes in the familiar face.

_Tate._

Was that really him? After all this time? Maybe she was just hallucinating again, thinking she was saved and they were reunited, while in reality the zombies were happily munching on her right now. But no way, she would feel the pain, wouldn't she?

This had to be real, it had to be him, unless he had a twin or a doppelganger... "Violet."

The sound of her name coming from his mouth breaks through her disbelieving thoughts. He sounds so happy, so relieved, like he had just found the meaning of his life, the reason to keep living - and he had - and she knows it must be him. It has to. No one else would say her name like that, like she's the center of their universe.

She makes the strangest noise ever in the back of her throat, something like a combination between a laugh, a sob and a whimper, and he mimics it, his eyes already filling with tears as he keeps sneaking looks at her between watching the road.

"Tate."

And suddenly she can't stop repeating his name over and over again, and she probably sounds like an insane person but she doesn't care. Because he's here, finally, and he's real this time, - she makes sure of that, his assurances that he's indeed real confirmation enough, after all fake Tate had never lied to her about only being a hallucination - he's alive, all this time he was alive. She wasn't crazy, she wasn't stupid for hoping and wishing, and going after him.

There are no words either of them can say that could describe what they were both feeling right now so it's silent in the car as he drives, save for the few quiet sobs she lets out, immediately soothed by his tender words. She leans onto his shoulder, her face buried in his neck as she takes in deep breaths, all of his scent, just inhaling him. He tries to accept as much of her embrace as he can while still trying to concentrate on the road - the last thing they need now is a car crash - but as soon as he's convinced there are no zombies around anymore, he stops the car.

He angles his whole body towards her now, wanting nothing more than escape reality for a while, just be with Violet and relish in the fact that she is not dead, he hasn't lost her yet. His heart restarted the moment he saw her face and her petite little body from the windshield and he felt alive again. As long as she wasn't dead, he wasn't either.

And he has to make sure that wouldn't change. "Jesus, Violet." He holds her close, murmuring into her hair. "Are you alright? You weren't bit, were you?"

She shakes her head, quick to reassure him and make the panic in his voice disappear. "No, no, I'm fine. Thanks to you," she lets out the smallest of laughs, pulling away to let him see her happy grin. But now that he can see all of her without any distractions, he finds he can't look away from her lips. Still so pink, pouty, just begging to be kissed... Violet's words barely register in him after that. "I knew you were alive. So many times I doubted it, but I never really gave up on hope. And now you're here."

"Yeah. Yeah, I am," is all he can get out before he smashes his lips to her, rather forcefully, but she doesn't seem to mind. She kisses him back with just as much fervor, pouring all the emotions she felt while they were separated into it, all the despair and longing, all the love, the sexual frustration. She could ravish him right here, right now without a care in the world, but she knew they couldn't be careless now, not when they just found each other again.

Later though, after they found a temporary place they can stay at, she would give him the best sex of his life because it's been far too long since he's been inside of her.

Breaking their kiss, she can feel his breath on her skin as he pants, and it's the most peaceful feeling she's had in a while. Just to hear him breathe, have his arms around her body, a physical proof that he's alive, is enough for her to regain all her lost strength and hope. "I missed you so much," he murmurs against her lips. She can only nod in agreement.

"Yeah, me too. Everything turned to shit in a couple of hours, and you weren't fucking answering your phone." Her voice rises at the end of the sentence, making her displeasure known with a well aimed punch to the shoulders. Yeah, the old Vi was back.

"I'm sorry. I left my phone home, I was in the store. By the time I got back..." he trails off, avoiding her eyes. That was enough sign for her.

"All of them?" she inquires quietly, her hands now rubbing his arms, trying to comfort him silently.

"Yeah, well... Constance was a bitch, even as a zombie," he shrugs, the image in front of his eyes when he opened the door still clear, still haunting him. He doesn't even know which one of his siblings she was chewing on in that moment, but it's probably better he doesn't.

"My father too." That was her way of saying 'I'm sorry'. She knew it would have meant jackshit anyway, there is nothing more cliche in this world than the almost coordinated reactions of sorry whenever you hear someone lost a relative. Instead she wanted to let him know she understood his pain and she was here for him, always, if he ever needed her.

He sighs quietly, his arms holding her to him just a little bit tighter. "What about your mother?"

"My mother... holy shit, my mom! Tate, we gotta go back for her." Fuck, what kind of daughter she is? She should have thought of her sooner, but the miracle of seeing Tate again completely made her forget about anything else. She feels guilty now, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she proceeds to tell the shortened version of her story while Tate turns the car back around, heading back to the direction they came from.

They're going to go rescue Vivien and her grandparents, together as a team. If there's anything left to rescue.

* * *

And there isn't much, she can already see that now.

The undeads are everywhere - some of them munching on what looks like fresh meat, some of them roaming around, and some of them trying to attack the two of them, luckily to no avail.

Her family is nowhere to be found.

That is until Tate points out a horde of zombies banging on the doors of a supermarket, desperately trying to get in.

She turns to him with wide eyes full of panic and fear, but not for herself this time. For her mother and grandparents. And for Tate. "Do you think..."

"Only one way to find out," he smirks and his voice sounds entirely too cheerful. Just as she suspected, he likes this - the danger, the adrenaline. She has a feeling he would like to get out of the car and finish them all by himself, but he stays, not only because it would be risky and a suicide mission to do it alone, but because of her too. Instead he settles for the next best thing. Throwing her a sideways look, he grins. "Fasten your seat belts."

She barely has enough time to obey before the car is off with the speed of lighting, passing all the zombies and dead bodies, not stopping even as the shop gets closer and closer. He drives through the glass, hitting some of the braindead monsters in the process, with a loud carefree laugh and a yell of 'woohoo' that makes her smile just as big.

And his assumptions prove to be true when a disheveled, shaken up looking Vivien stumbles out of one of the shelves at the sound of commotion. Her mouth hangs open in surprise at the sight of a car in the middle of the store, and no other than her daughter's boyfriend sitting behind the wheel, but she's quick to catch on, running to the door. She takes out on of the zombies stumbling towards her with the rifle she was still holding, then she's inside too, safe from clutches of the monsters.

"Where's grandma and grandpa?"

Vivien merely shakes her head slowly, and that's all Tate needs to start backing out of the shop. However his hand find Violet's, intertwining their fingers when he sees the expression she's wearing. There are no tears, no traces of sadness at all for anyone who doesn't know her. But he does know her and he can see how much it did affect her.

"I got here too late. There were so many of them, I couldn't have killed them all. So I had to run," Vivien continues, but her voice is emotionless, dead. Violet knows the signs already, this is the part when her mother would be slipping into her usual coma, because that's easier than dealing with her parents' deaths and the reality of this world. Now that she's been there too, Violet understands her better and she thanks whatever forces there are out there again that she found Tate, so she doesn't have to end up like her.

"I'm really glad you're alive, Tate," the older woman whispers while she's still herself. "I know you'll take care of Violet."

His head turns towards the said girl just in time for their eyes to meet, the sadness in her eyes momentarily gone as she gives him a soft smile, nodding her agreement with her mother. He mirrors her grin, squeezing her hands as his eyes turn back to the road.

Vivien was right, he would take care of her, always, and she'd take care of him too. Now that they had each other again, nothing could stand in their way.

* * *

**So here it is, the moment you've all been waiting for. They're reunited, yay! It made me happy too. So how many of you called that it was Tate in the car? I know it was a long shot they would ever cross paths again, but whatever, it's not like I was gonna have them be apart forever.**

**Next chapter is the last one, and then I can start working on new things, all Violate, because I don't wanna give up on them just because season 2 is here now (which started out good, but still, it's not season 1 and it's never gonna be)**

**And about season 2, well, _EVAN'S ASS,_ HOLY SHIT! That is all.**


End file.
